


In This Harbour I Shall Keep My Anchor

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: The Witcher Bingo 2020 Fills [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Light Angst, M/M, Massage, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Reunions, The Witcher Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23649997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier reunite after many weeks apart.Witcher Bingo Fill: Reunited
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Witcher Bingo 2020 Fills [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697797
Comments: 3
Kudos: 109





	In This Harbour I Shall Keep My Anchor

Geralt hummed contently, the soft sheets beneath him peaceful after several hard weeks on the road. His arms were folded under his head, the candlelight flickered with each warm breeze slipping through open windows. The air seemed thick with the familiar scent of lavender; no doubt infused into the slick oil coating his skin.

It was a rare thing to be this relaxed. He knew they were safe within this chalet’s walls, no matter how deep into the forest it resided. The people here, while rich and insufferable, were no fools to the danger that creeped through the trees and watched from on high. That of course didn’t mean his swords weren’t resting next to the bed or that he hadn’t hidden a small, discrete dagger beneath his pillow.

“Stop thinking.”

Jaskier’s hands kneaded at the muscle of his shoulder, as though he were trying to scold him with childish strength. Geralt didn’t mind, simply grunted in response and hid his smile from the bard’s answering sigh. Those clever hands moved lower, swiping along his torso, meeting at his spine and sliding up to his neck before spreading and repeating the process once more.

What his bard lacked in strength he most certainly made up with skill. It was strange to Geralt, how the callouses on Jaskier’s fingers were so similar to his own, yet everything else about him was different. He supposed dedication had the necessity of taking many forms…then again Geralt had seen the scars marring his bard’s back and his chest…not as different as he might think.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No.”

“Good, I’m not done yet.”

Geralt huffed. He’d let Jaskier’s work his body all night if he so wished. This had become something of a routine when he showed up, usually caked with days of dirt and weary from whatever monster had tried to kill him this time. He’d never admit it to the bard, but he liked the care the smaller man took with him.

It always began with stripping his clothes, running his fingers over him and searching for any injuries. Jaskier never seemed to understand that he healed differently then most humans…not that he sought to remind him, no reason to make a comparison to a mutant if it can be helped.

Then there was always the bath and though Geralt never said anything, he preferred the times when his bard would also strip and join him without complaint. Tonight, had not been one of those nights, though he was making up for it now. The massage, while skilled never really served its actual mission of healing his aching muscles, that was something only time would either fix or not, depending on his next hunt.

“I said stop thinking.”

“I’m thinking of you.”

Jaskier laughed and Geralt imagined him rolling his eyes. He wasn’t mocking him, he knew that now, simply found a strange kind of joy when Geralt said things like that. Regardless, he reached one hand back to settle it on Jaskier’s thigh, tugging him forward a bit.

The man was straddling him at the moment, trying to get enough leverage to push hard into the massage. His hand was slapped away reproachfully, “I’m not finished yet Geralt. We can have all the sex we want for the rest of the night but first I’m going to make you relax into jelly.”

Geralt grunted. Jaskier wouldn’t…was never able to make him that relaxed, not without a few good orgasms and the man’s exhausted expression easing him into his own deep sleep. It was embarrassing to think about but the thought of Jaskier, naked and satiated in the bed of whatever great Lord he was playing for that week and their eventual reunion, was what drove him through his weeks away.

“Geralt.”

This time his voice was well and truly exasperated, his hands no longer working at the knots in his back. Unrepentant, he shifted slightly beneath the bard, heard his sudden cry of protest but was already flipping them in a flurry of limbs and Jaskier’s startled sounds. When all was said and done, Geralt hovered over his bard, who now lay in the sheets, thighs straddling his waist in a much more likable position.

Jaskier slapped at his chest but didn’t otherwise move, allowing Geralt to take in his bard fully. The man was naked, like him, chest a little sweaty from the heat and glistening in the candle light, though it didn’t hold his attention for long, not when he could finally look into the smaller man’s face for the first time in nearly two months.

Geralt had never been so grateful for the training he received in shielding his emotions. These things could be dangerous, especially for a Witcher, especially one that was in love with a man who could not defend himself even if his life depended on it, not when it came to the monsters and mercenaries and noblemen that had become part of the slew of enemies he had. Any one of them could take Jaskier apart in vengeance for some perceived wrong and there would be nothing Geralt could do about it. They must not find out…

Brilliant hazel eyes stared up at him, flecks of green sparkling in the low light as he spoke, “Geralt, one last time. Stop thinking. We’re here remember. Forget about your monsters, at least until its time for you to leave again yeah?”

Unsettling. Whenever Jaskier’s humor fled Geralt found himself wrong-footed, especially when he was the cause, so with a sigh he grunted his assent. Watched as a slow, cocky smile spread over his bard’s lips, clever fingers reaching up to touch his chest and begin their slow drifting journey downwards, light as a feather and knowing very well what they were doing.

“I think you require a distraction Witcher,” he proclaimed.

Geralt raised an eyebrow, “just promise it won’t be one of your songs bard or I’ll find myself fleeing before morning.”

Where that once would have earned him narrowed eyes and a scowl, all it got was a low, throaty laugh and two plush, loving lips pressed harshly against his own. Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier and let go of all the morose and weary thoughts that had plagued his mind, finally content with his lover.


End file.
